Dead Editor File (The Taylor Browning Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by G G Collins

  “Right.” Taylor didn’t believe it for a moment but she didn’t want to argue with Jim. It was too easy. She decided to concentrate on the spectacular stands of autumn aspen quivering in the light breeze. Every turn up the mountain brought more glorious color, sometimes mixed with the deep green of the pines. On the shady side of the mountain colors were intense. On the bright side, the light played through the trees diffusing the color into a vast yellow glow.

  They made it to the top in good time, given Jim’s demonstrated defiance of lawful limits. Since it was a weekday there were few leaf peepers. On weekends it could be a very slow trip indeed. She remembered following a lumbering old Cadillac on another fall day. It had taken her and Dave nearly an hour to climb Mount Baldy. But it had been worth it.

  “Here we are.” Jim pulled the Jeep into a parking space at the Santa Fe ski area. “Last one to the top buys lunch.”

  Lunch? Taylor didn’t recall lunch being mentioned before now. She let it go; more than enough time later to squirm out of that.

  Jim bought their tickets and they waited in a short line for the Super Chief.

  “Ski much?” he asked.

  “Rank beginner. At this point my best record is down the bunny slope with only one mishap. About half the time I can’t get off the lift without falling.”

  “You’ll have to buy a season ticket and practice. I’d be glad to come with you; give you pointers if you want.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We’re next,” Jim nudged her elbow.

  They sat back in the four-seater as it swung up in a smooth motion. It brought to mind Taylor’s first experience on a lift. She had been absolutely terrified. It seemed to move so fast and at each pole it bumped twice. She was certain archaeologists would someday discover the impressions left on the lift bar by her white-knuckled fingers.

  The sun was high in the sky. Gone were the clouds of Dominique’s service. For a few moments the lift stopped to allow someone time to be seated. The absolute quiet was heavenly. Jim seemed to appreciate it too, since he made no attempt at conversation. Taylor closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face. Last night’s events took their place on a back burner while she enjoyed the trip to the top.

  The lift began moving again and they exclaimed at the beauty of the glowing aspen and evergreen forest. At the top they got off the lift at the platform and walked across the summit to look at Santa Fe below.

  Taylor thought she could see forever from this spot on the mountain. The Jemez range to the west was a distant blue. The elevation was 11,250 feet according to the sign erected by the Santa Fe National Forest. Taylor could barely see the “Pedernal,” that Georgia O’Keeffe had repeatedly painted from her Ghost Ranch home. After her death, her ashes were scattered at the top of Pedernal.

  “Aren’t you glad you live here?” Jim asked.

  “Oh yes. I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. Santa Fe has everything.”

  “Don’t forget the inflated cost of living due to the tourism industry. And the limited water supply,” Jim added.

  Taylor frowned at him.

  “Jim, has anyone ever told you your outlook is a bit on the pessimistic side?”

  “You, my lovely.” He grinned wickedly and cupped her chin.

  “I prefer to think of it as pragmatic.”

  “Whatever. But it can be a bit of a drag.”

  “I resolve to not be a drag.” He punched her shoulder playfully.

  “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  Lunch consisted of hot dogs and fries eaten on the sun deck. Red picnic tables with umbrellas, provided respite from the rigors of skiing, and now offered a quiet place under the turquoise sky.

  “Browning,” Jim said, gulping soda. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m an open book. What you see is what you get.”

  “No, tell me about your life before your gig being our editor extraordinaire.”

  “Born and raised in St. Louis, married Dave and moved to Denver for his job. Now I’m in Santa Fe.”

  “That was fast,” Jim said. “I nearly got whiplash.”

  She laughed and it was spontaneous rather than forced. She was having fun and it felt good. Maybe Jim was right, you might as well laugh. Oh good heavens, what a thought; Jim right?

  * * *

  By the time they returned to the office it was after five.

  “Surely, you’re not going in,” Jim said. “After I rescued you from it all.”

  “Just to pick up a manuscript; I can do some reading tonight.”

  “Not me. I’ll see you Monday.” He gunned the Jeep’s motor and was off.

  Taylor used her new key card and walked in the quiet office. She chose the manuscript she wanted to read. Three steps from the lobby, she heard noises from the basement. She inhaled sharply and stopped.

  Curious, she headed downstairs.

  She turned at the landing and stood for a moment looking down the hall. The only light was coming from Donald’s office. She’d take a quick look and see what he was up to.

  At the base of the stairs she stepped on a crumbled piece of paper. The office below became silent.

  “Who’s there? Jim?” called Donald.

  “It’s me, Taylor.”

  “What are you doing here?” She heard a drawer close with a thud.

  “Picking up a manuscript.”

  He came into view as she stepped into the hall.

  “I heard noise and wanted to see who was down here. How are you?”

  “Fine,” he said tersely. “Just trying to finish a few things before sales conference.”

  “Sales conference isn’t until December,” Taylor said. “Why the hurry?”

  “Then it will be end-of-the-year reports.” he said defensively.

  Donald did not want her down here. The ball of paper had given away her descent. He’d had time to hide whatever he was really working on. She was beginning to suspect nearly everyone of something.

  “Well, I must get home to Mother.” He crammed some papers into his briefcase. “She worries if I’m late.” He moved to leave.

  “Aren’t you coming?” It was more of a statement than a question. Taylor acquiesced and joined Donald on the steps. When they locked up Taylor waited for Donald to walk with her to the parking lot. Instead he said goodnight and walked off in the other direction.

  “Isn’t your car in the lot?” Taylor asked Donald’s retreating back.

  “Nope. Parked in the street.”

  Taylor couldn’t remember ever seeing Donald in his car. Now that she wanted to know what kind of vehicle he drove, he wasn’t cooperating.

  In the parking lot she found her Mustang and a tan Marquis. Maybe a visitor was taking a chance on parking there. Taylor made a mad dash for her Pony. She was feeling spooked.

  Chapter 20

  Monday morning Taylor couldn’t see the top of her desk. Most of Virginia’s work had already made its way to her office.

  “This is ridiculous.” She made the short trip to Jessica’s office.

  “She’s not here.” Alise frowned.

  “Will she be in soon?”

  “I don’t know. She wasn’t in yesterday afternoon either.”

  “Can she be reached?’ Taylor was exasperated. She hadn’t known Jessica long enough to know if she would be a dependable, responsible employer. This was not a normal situation. Concern wedged its way into her thoughts.

  “I haven’t had any luck reaching her,” Alise said. “All I get is her voice mail, and I’ve left several messages. She didn’t even tell me she was leaving.”

  Alise was vexed. How could she do her job when her boss never told her where she was going or how to reach her.

  “What’s her address?” Taylor was concerned.

  “Go ahead,” Alise said. “I’ll text it to you.”

  Taylor left Alise to pull up her address book. By the time she reached the parking lot, the address showed up on her phone. It was in the city’s east si
de. Jessica’s house was one street east of Canyon Road, the art center of Santa Fe.

  A few minutes later she turned onto Alameda. The Santa Fe River was on her right as she drove east. It became a river only during spring snow melt or after a heavy downpour; most of the time it was more of a trickle. Nonetheless, it was a very pleasant place to walk. Picnic tables were scattered along the edge of the river and a number of people were taking advantage of the lovely morning by strolling aimlessly. One serious jogger zipped by the walkers. Taylor wished she had time for a walk but Jessica’s absence caused her concern.

  She wanted to talk with Jessica about the possibility of bringing Virginia back to work if only until a replacement could be found. Taylor hoped to persuade her to see Virginia’s importance and commitment to the publishing company, but Alise’s comments about not being able to locate her had struck an alarming chord.

  She reached the right block and slowed to watch for Jessica’s house number. On the right among the tall trees was the house, and what a house. Taylor drove across a small wooden bridge just wide enough for one car to squeeze across to a parking area beneath the trees. The Mustang’s tires crunched and sank a bit in the soft gravel. The adobe structure was two-storied with a three-car garage. One garage door was open revealing Jessica’s black Mercedes sport car inside. Her car accounted for, was Jessica at home or merely left her garage door open?

  Taylor walked along a flagstone path sheltered by a trellis. In spring wisteria would be in bloom, with delicate, fragrant flower clusters hanging like grapes from the vine. At the door she paused, aware of how quiet it was. A feeling of isolation crept over her as she considered what to do. She rang the doorbell and waited. Several moments passed. No one answered.

  Her anxiety was increasing. She looked through the sidelight next to the front door. Although there was a white panel curtain, she could still see the sunlit foyer. Tile covered the floor where a grandfather clock ticked contentedly. There was a nicho full of tiny folk art pieces. Everything seemed right with the world.

  She moved around the corner of the house until she reached a window she could see through. Here, she could hear a blaring noise, but couldn’t identify it. This was the kitchen. What she saw nearly made her heart stop.

  There were two pots on the stove, acrid smoke rising from both of them. It was the fire alarm she heard. If someone was in the house they couldn’t help but hear the piercing sound. The room was a hazy mess. If someone didn’t turn off the burners, there would be a fire soon. Was Jessica in the house, but unable to call for help?

  Taylor dug for her phone. But who should she call? There was no fire yet. She didn’t know if an ambulance was needed. Maybe the police? She’d try to get in first and turn off the stove.

  River rocks had been used as landscaping around the back of the house. Taylor picked one about the size of a brick and ran into the garage. If only the connecting door to the house had a window. It didn’t.

  “Blast!” Taylor raced back to the rear courtyard. The kitchen had a large eating area next to the house which opened onto a terrace. Before crashing one of the panes in the French doors, she looked through the door at the lock.

  “Double cylinder! I’ll never break that down.”

  The kitchen window was her best chance. She stepped back and lobbed the stone at the window. The pane broke, but there was a stubborn screen causing the stone to bounce back and fall to the ground.

  At that moment the security alarm sounded. Help would be on the way very soon. She thought it odd that the smoke alarm wasn’t connected to the home security. Taylor pounded the screen with the stone until it tore and she could pull it back, then she broke the remaining glass so she could crawl through without getting cut.

  The scorching smell was overwhelming as Taylor fell through the now open window onto a bench below. She double-timed it across the expansive kitchen, vaulted the bar, and switched off both burners. Taylor nearly burned her fingers turning off the controls. An oven mitt lay on the counter. She slipped it on taking extreme care to move the hot pans to the sink, a column of smoke flowed from each. The food had burned to a black crusty mess and the burners still glowed. The pots screamed in agony as the hot surfaces met with the cool stainless steel of the sink.

  Taylor raced through the house checking each room for Jessica. Any other time, she would have enjoyed exploring this house. Meticulous care had been taken in both the design and construction. A glance into the elegant dining room showed only a very expensive Taos original table and hutch, an antique chandelier and hammered tin mirror.

  She crossed the foyer to the other side of the house and found the living room filled with wooden furniture covered in overstuffed ivory cushions. White walls had a life of their own as the giant fireplace bounced yellow light from faux logs set in teepee style. Peach accent pillows spilled off the sofa onto the floor by design. The room would have been warm and inviting any other time. Even Jessica’s study was in perfect order, just like her office at work.

  A quick look at the guest wing revealed nothing more than two lovely bedrooms with en suite baths beautifully furnished in southwest style. Fresh flowers were placed in each room and bookshelves bulged with books and folk art for her guests. That left only the upstairs. The curving staircase seemed somehow menacing.

  Taylor took the staircase by twos. The piercing alarm was even louder upstairs and she prayed for the sound of a siren soon. Just how long did it take for the police to arrive? If the worst had happened, she would rather someone else found Jessica.

  A four-poster bed dominated the master suite. Burgundy awning striped chairs, placed thoughtfully near a window made it possible to read or watch the mountains at sunset. Flowers were placed on every available flat surface. Taylor would love to have her flower budget to live on; it would likely exceed her salary.

  The only place Taylor hadn’t looked was the master bath. With the alarm still screeching she had no way of knowing if someone was in the house. There would be no tell-tale squeaking floor boards to warn her.

  She reached the entrance to the bath and cautiously looked around. No one! What she saw next made her want to turn tail. The curved shower wall was built-in. A wall of peach tile and glass brick made a luxurious shower. Only one problem; in order to reach the shower Taylor had to walk into and around the wall of tile. She inched her way down the incline and wished she had armed herself with something, anything. There was plenty of light thanks to a skylight. Taylor braced herself as she took one last step into the abyss. Empty!

  “I’m going to be arrested for breaking and entering.” Taylor let out all the air from her lungs at once. She hadn’t dared to breathe as she entered the shower.

  “Furthermore, I’ll be the latest suspect in two murders. After all, if one murders people, burglary is no big deal.” Her relief at not finding Jessica was quickly pushed away as she pondered her fate.

  Downstairs she waited in the foyer for the police to arrive. The search of the house had only taken a few minutes, but it had seemed an eternity. She was about to go outside to get away from the noise when she noticed a door she hadn’t seen before. It was off the entrance hall. When she looked down at the floor, there was water spreading beneath the door and into the foyer.

  With pounding heart, Taylor opened the door. Jessica was lying on the powder room floor. The rug was soaked with water. The faucet was running and the sink was overflowing. Jessica appeared to be asleep except for the cut on her forehead which oozed a little blood. She had apparently fallen and hit her head. Taylor hoped for the best.

  Jessica had a faint pulse in her neck. Taylor wanted to make her more comfortable, but was afraid to move her. She turned off the running water in the sink and sent the remainder down the drain.

  Two officers burst into the foyer, guns drawn but pointed downward.

  “No need for guns,” Taylor squeaked. “Get an ambulance.” She slowly stood when commanded to only to sink as her knees crumpled beneath her. Everything went
blessedly black.

  When she woke a few minutes later, the alarm was still blasting. No, it was a different sound, and she was moving.

  “You’re fine,” the EMT told her patting her arm. “I’m Adam. We’re taking you to hospital to be checked out. Just relax.”

  “Relax! Was I shot? Am I hurt?”

  The whole terrifying kerfuffle came back to her. Was she shot? Had the officer thought her a murderer and shot her? Taylor concentrated on her body. There was no pain.

  “You’re fine. No bullet wounds. You just fainted.” Adam assured her.

  “How’s Jessica?” she asked.

  “She’s in the ambulance ahead of us. Don’t worry. She’ll get the best help.”

  The way he said it she believed him where her condition was concerned, but she wasn’t so sure about Jessica.

  Chapter 21

  When Taylor awoke the first thing she saw was a nurse adjusting the covers on her bed. She was a large woman in green scrubs. Her grey hair was short and in soft curls against her head.

  “Hello Hon. How are you feeling?”

  “Sleepy,” Taylor’s tongue felt thick and heavy. In fact, all of her body felt heavy. “What happened to me?”

  “The doctor gave you a sedative. We gather you had quite an adventure today.” The nurse smiled reassurance and patted her hand. She had kind blue eyes. In her fuzzy state Taylor focused on those eyes.

  “What time is it?”

  “Nearly six in the evening.”

  “I have to get home and feed my cat.”

  “Now Hon, you just stay put. The doctor’s keeping you in overnight.” Her gentle hands pushed Taylor back against the pillow.

  Taylor groaned.

  “Say, there is someone here to see you. He made me promise to tell him soon as you were awake.” She left before Taylor could ask who.

  “She’s worried about her cat.” To someone in the hall.

  “Here’s your visitor.” The nurse told her.

  Detective Sanchez knocked hesitantly on the door. “Mind if I come in?”

  Taylor tried to wave her hand, but it seemed like too much trouble to lift it. Both arms felt like lumps.